Lace and Lies

by Nancy Warren

  I had to call the police. I glanced over at her again, knowing I had to make absolutely sure she was dead. If there was any life at all, maybe it wasn’t too late to save her.

  I flipped on the overhead lights. I didn’t want to, death was easier to bear in the dark.

  I walked back over and forced myself to look down at her once more. The eyes were open, staring up as though she was furious with the ceiling. She had an angry look on her face, and her lips were pursed as though she was about to argue. She actually looked exactly the way she had when she’d been arguing with Teddy Lamont about the correct way to knit lace.

  He’d looked angry enough to kill, but then I think everyone around that table had felt the same way. People got killed for crazy reasons all the time, but surely this woman hadn’t been killed over a knitting stitch?

  It was only now that I realized what she’d been killed with. One of those sharp steel knitting needles that Theodore had displayed on the shop wall had been driven into her chest like an ice pick. Its mate entered her chest from the other side, the way you’d stick two needles into a ball of wool.

  Still, I had to check, and so I got to my knees and lifted her wrist, feeling for a pulse. She was stiff. The term rigor mortis went through my head, and with a shudder I let go of her wrist and wiped my fingers on my skirt.

  I called the police emergency line and told them what I’d found. They told me to stay where I was and someone would be right over. It was a good thing the 999 operator told me to stay with the body, because I seriously wanted to run very far and very fast away from here.

  I was going to have to open the door anyway in order to let the police in—that was my justification for opening the front door. I knew that if I didn’t get some air, I might seriously embarrass myself by throwing up. I’d already tossed my coffee all over the poor woman. I didn’t want to toss my cookies as well.

  I found an old tea towel that I used sometimes to dust the shelves. It was a souvenir from the Tower of London but so old the tower had faded to pale gray in places and there was a hole in one corner. Carefully, I used it to open the door.

  I screamed when something black flew past me and jumped a mile in the air. That’s how rattled I was. I didn’t even recognize my own cat.

  “Nyx. You shouldn’t be in here,” I scolded, though I’d never been so happy to see anything or anyone in all of my life. With the true instinct of a curious cat, she immediately padded over to Enid. Nyx leaned her nose toward the dead woman and back again several times, so she looked as though she was dabbing something on the dead woman’s face. She turned, and those gold eyes stared at me as though saying, “Lucy, really? Another dead body?”

  Even though she hadn’t spoken, I answered her. “It’s not like I want these things to happen. I don’t kill people, you know.”

  She seemed to understand that I needed all the comfort I could get right now. She walked around me, rubbing her lithe body against my ankles, now sticky with coffee. I leaned down and picked her up, and she crawled up and over my shoulder, hanging there, heavy and warm and comforting. She didn’t purr. I suspected it was out of respect for the dead. Or maybe my jangly nerves were too much for her.

  While I waited for the police, I started to call Molly, the producer. She needed to know what was going on, and hopefully she could stop the film crew from arriving. I hoped she could also prevent the people who were supposed to be in the classroom from showing up. But, then I thought maybe the police would want everyone to show up. To see if someone didn’t. Someone who might have blood on their hands.

  So I put my phone away. I couldn’t think clearly anyway. I’d wait for the police, and they could take over from here. All I wanted to do was go upstairs, crawl back into bed and put the covers over my head. Maybe book a flight back to Boston.

  One-way.

  I’d never seen a dead body in my life until I’d arrived in Oxford. Now I seemed to stumble over them all the time.

  It’s because you’re a witch. The words lodged themselves silently in my head.

  Had the thought come from Nyx? In case it had, I spoke aloud. “You don’t know that. There are thousands of witches in the world. They don’t attract death to them. Most are healers and people who understand the world in a way most mortals don’t. I’m the only one I know who seems to draw corpses the way a picnic draws flies.”

  The ambulance arrived first. And close behind that was a police car with lights flashing but no siren. Fortunately, it was still early in the morning, and no one was in our little street shopping. After I’d told them how I’d found her, a uniformed cop asked me to wait upstairs, which I was more than happy to do. I apologized about the coffee, and Nyx and I went back upstairs.

  I poured myself another cup of coffee, and then when the smell hit me, I couldn’t drink it. I threw the dark liquid down the sink. Instead, I brewed some calming herbal tea. I added a healthy shot of Cotswolds honey for comfort. I sat on the couch, and Nyx crawled up in my lap. My hands were shaking so hard, the cup rattled against my teeth, but the tea definitely helped. I closed my eyes and tried to calm myself. Nyx began to purr then, low, rumbling, soothing sounds that picked up the rhythm of my own breathing and seemed to slow it down until I felt the calm creep over me.

  When the knock came on the door, I was ready.

  I ran downstairs to open the connecting door and found Detective Inspector Ian Chisholm standing on the other side. I’d known Ian almost as long as I’d been in Oxford. We’d even dated a couple of times. There was a slight hesitation between us now, as I think both of us tried not to remember that awkward interlude.

  “Lucy,” he said. “Are you all right?”

  I would’ve liked to be one of those women who could come back with a smart, snappy quote in times of stress, but the truth was, I could barely get words out at all. I just nodded and stood back to let him in. A uniformed officer came up behind him.

  When he came upstairs, Ian just looked at me with his eyebrows slightly raised. He didn’t have to say anything. This wasn’t the first time a dead body had been found in my shop.

  The silence stretched, and I giggled nervously. “We’ll have to stop meeting like this.”

  He nodded. “Tell us what happened?”

  I didn’t even know where to start. Finally, I explained about the television show and the students being chosen, and then I told him that Enid had been one of them.

  “So you never met her before this television show?”

  “That’s right. She came into my shop the day before filming started. Teddy Lamont was there, and I think she was hoping to meet him.” I thought about telling them how pushy and annoying she’d been, but I didn’t want to assassinate her character, not when someone had already assassinated her. In a strange way, I felt protective of the poor woman. She was dead. I didn’t want to start talking trash about her.

  “So, she came to meet Teddy Lamont. And then when did you see her again?”

  “Well, all the students were invited to Teddy’s book signing that night at Frogg’s Books.”

  “Did she arrive alone? Was she with anyone?”

  I had to think back. “I think she was alone.” The way she was hitting on the few men there, I certainly hoped she was alone.

  “Did you see what time she left? Or who she left with?”

  I shook my head. “I left before the other students.”

  I forced myself to hold my gaze steady and not let myself blush. I didn’t want Ian to know that I had snuck out early to meet my vampire grandmother. Instead, I said, “I had a big day coming up yesterday. I wanted to make sure I got a good night’s sleep and had everything ready when the filming started.”

  I thought that sounded very reasonable and probably what I would’ve done if I hadn’t been out stargazing with a vampire.

  Ian seemed to accept my story. “And filming started yesterday, you said, for this television show?”

  “Yes.”

  “Did anything happen? Did E
nid Selfe seem upset or frightened? Worried about anything?”

  “No.” Quite the opposite. She’d caused upset rather than felt it.

  “The whole day was filmed?”

  “Yes.”

  Ian would obviously ask to see all the footage from yesterday’s lesson, so I thought I’d best own up about some of the behavior I had witnessed so I didn’t look suspicious. I chose my words carefully. “I think Enid Selfe could be the kind of person who made enemies.”

  His eyebrows rose at that, and his green eyes peered at me intently. “What makes you say that?”

  “You’ll want to watch all the footage from yesterday’s filming. Enid was rather opinionated about her knitting. I don’t think she appreciated Teddy Lamont’s style. It’s very relaxed and casual, and she struck me as quite a perfectionist.”

  He looked to me like I might be slightly nuts. “Are you suggesting that woman was murdered because someone didn’t like her knitting stitches?”

  “I’m not suggesting anything, but you may have noticed she was murdered with knitting needles.”

  “That was hard to miss. As was the puddle of coffee dropped beside the victim.”

  Chapter 7

  I felt my face grow hot in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry. That was me. It was the shock. I literally walked right into her, and then I looked down and saw her, and the coffee just fell out of my hand.”

  He nodded. “Could happen to anyone. Does rather mess up my crime scene though.”

  “I am so sorry.” I felt like telling him dropped coffee and a dead body weren’t doing much for my business either.

  “As you say, we’ll be looking at all the footage from yesterday, but give me the highlights. Tell me about the other students. Did any of them seem particularly antagonistic towards the victim?”

  It would be easier to say which of them weren’t antagonistic toward Enid Selfe.

  In anticipation of the police asking me questions about the class in my shop, I had printed off the pictures and bios I had for each student. I handed them to Ian and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “I didn’t tell the producer about the murder. I was going to, but I thought you might want all the students to show up as though the class were going ahead.”

  He glanced up from his reading, paused. “Yes. That’s a good idea, Lucy. We not only want to see who does show up but, even more important, who doesn’t.”

  I hoped my good thinking made up a bit for me slopping coffee all over the dead woman, but I wasn’t sure I completely evened the score. I supposed it would depend on what forensics were still able to glean.

  As though he were thinking the same thing, Ian said, “You didn’t touch anything else, did you? Like the needles in her chest?”

  I shook my head. Eeww. “The only thing I did was check her pulse. I was fairly certain she was dead but had to be sure.”

  “Fair enough. Wrist or throat?”

  I shuddered at the very idea of touching that woman. “Wrist.” I could still remember the clammy, cool feel of her flesh beneath my trembling fingers.

  He went back to reading the printout. When he’d finished, he looked up. “All of these people are knitters?” He sounded shocked.

  “That’s the point of this program, I think, to showcase an assortment of people who all knit. Get away from clichés.”

  Teddy and the knitting class were due at my shop at ten. When I reminded Ian of that and the fact that I hadn’t phoned Molly yet, he passed me back the pages with the bios of the students. “Forensics will be busy downstairs for some time yet. Is there somewhere else nearby where you could hold the class?”

  I thought about it. There was the church hall at the top of the road, but it was a big, rather uninteresting room. Besides, it was Sunday. There would likely be activities going on. I walked to my window as though looking out on Harrington Street might give me inspiration, and of course it did. There, right across the road, was Frogg’s Books.

  Charlie didn’t open Sundays during the summer. The students had been there once. They wouldn’t think it was strange to meet there again. I suggested this to Ian, and he agreed it was a good idea.

  “But you have to get rid of all these police vehicles and the ambulance, or it will tip everyone off that some disaster’s happened.”

  He glanced at his watch. “Call the producer. Put them off for an hour. Make sure you can get into Frogg’s Books. In the meantime, I’ll get all the emergency vehicles moved. The team will still be busy in here, but you shouldn’t see anything from the street.”

  “And you’ll come up to Frogg’s Books and tell everyone what’s happened?” I didn’t want to be stuck with that horrible job.

  “Yes, I will. Make them comfortable. Give them tea or coffee or something, and I’ll arrive about half past eleven.”

  “I’ll have to tell Molly. She’s the producer. It’s her job to change the venue.”

  He appeared to find this news rather inconvenient. “Ask Molly to meet you at the bookstore earlier than everyone else. Tell her there’s a problem but don’t tell her what it is. First thing we need to do is make sure she shows up.”

  “Molly? You think the show producer might’ve murdered one of the cast of her own show?”

  He gave me a disdainful cop to layperson glance. “At this point in the investigation, everyone is a suspect.”

  The way he said everyone with that emphasis suggested he thought I might be a suspect too. Great. Exactly what I needed. I’d been so excited to have Cardinal Woolsey’s chosen for this television show. How had it all gone so terribly wrong? In one day?

  Following his instructions, I phoned Charlie and asked if it would be all right for me to take the cast and crew over to Frogg’s Books. “There’s a problem with my shop.”

  “Bad luck.” He was obviously surprised by my request but immediately said of course. I was welcome to it. And did I need him to come over?

  It was his day off and the bookstore was closed, so I appreciated the offer. However, we kept keys to each other’s shops, and so I told him I could manage.

  “Lucy? Is everything all right?”

  I didn’t want to lie, so I asked him why he was asking. He seemed to think about it for a moment and then said, “I don’t know. You sound odd.”

  “I’m fine. I’ve just got a little problem with my shop. I’ll explain it all to you later.”

  Charlie was nothing if not a gentleman, and British, so as curious as he might’ve been, he wouldn’t ask questions. In fact, he immediately apologized for seeming nosy. “Yes, of course. Sorry to press you. You’ll tell me all in good time.”

  Once I had permission to use Charlie’s shop, I phoned Molly, the show producer. Before I could say anything, she said, “Lucy, Lucy. Good. So glad I caught you. I’ve got an idea for some separate segments. Thought we might—”

  Before she could go on, I interrupted. Once Molly got going, she might talk for half an hour. Also, I strongly suspected that she was trying to rearrange things to stop Enid from monopolizing the program again. Who could blame her? Oh my gosh, maybe Molly had murdered Enid. It was certainly an efficient way to stop the woman monopolizing Teddy’s attention and ruining the program.

  “Molly, I’ve got a problem with the shop. Can we meet at Frogg’s Books? If we could put the students off for an hour, I’d like to see you by myself.”

  “Good heavens. What is it? Have you had a flood or something? Please tell me it wasn’t a fire. We have some equipment still in your shop.”

  I almost smiled at how one-track her mind was. Almost.

  “No. I don’t want to talk about it on the phone. I’ll explain when I see you. I just wanted to make sure I had your permission to phone all the students and put them off.”

  “Yes. If you must. I can get Becks to do it. And we’ll sort out the crew to come later as well.”

  I didn’t have the heart to tell her that I didn’t think anyone was going to be doing any filming today. Better to tell her in person.


  “Would you phone Teddy? If I do it, he’ll chuck a wobbly. But if the news comes from you, he’ll be polite.”

  “Fine.”

  Ian had overheard my side of the conversation, and when I was done, he said, “Good. I’d better get back downstairs.” To my surprise, he reached out and touched my shoulder. “Are you going to be all right?”

  I knew I’d be better once Enid Selfe, or what was left of her, was taken away. But I just nodded.

  He left, and I curled up with Nyx.

  When I phoned Teddy’s hotel, Douglas picked up the phone. I explained my mission, and he said, “Fine. Have they fired that Enid woman?” From the sound of his voice, he’d heard all about how she derailed the filming the day before.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Well, you can tell Enid Selfe from me that today’s class is being held in Prague. No, wait a minute, not Prague. I like Prague. I wouldn’t inflict that dreadful woman on such a nice city. Pittsburgh. Tell her it’s in Pittsburgh.”

  In spite of my awful morning, I had to laugh. “What do you have against Pittsburgh?”

  “I was there once in winter. Pittsburgh ruined a perfectly good pair of Ferragamo leather boots. Sending it Enid would even the score.”

  “Duly noted.”

  Douglas promised to tell Teddy about the new arrangements. “But I have to tell you, he’s not looking forward to today. It’s like someone let all the helium out of the balloon.”

  I wanted to tell him that he didn’t need to worry about Enid anymore. Of course I couldn’t. I also wanted to tell him to stop talking before he said anything he was going to regret. Should I pass on his comments about Enid to Ian?

  Whether it was the right thing to do or not, I knew I wouldn’t. I liked Douglas, and I liked Teddy. If they had murdered Enid, the police were going to have to discover it themselves. I wasn’t going to be a snitch.

  Nyx was a great comfort as I sat there trying not to listen to the sounds coming from downstairs. She was a warm weight on my lap, anchoring me to what was good and warm and alive.